a question
by liefdewint
Summary: John has an important question to ask, but to who I don't own anything


John wasn't sure who he should ask it.

Sure, Sherlock had spoken once about his mother, but just once and the way he talked about her, showed that he wasn't really fond of her. She loved him because he was her son, but only the parts that were amiable. The rest she just ignored.

So she wasn't the right person to ask.

The next person John thought about was Mycroft. He was one of the few people who actually cared about Sherlock's wellbeing, except for John of course. But if he had to be honest, he was actually scared of Mycroft. Every time they met, Mycroft would try to bribe John to leave or to spy on Sherlock, or -something which was occurring more and more now that John's relationship with Sherlock was getting more serious- threaten to let be John killed if he would ever hurt Sherlock.

John wasn't completely sure which one would happen if he asked his question, probably both, but neither of them would be nice. It wouldn't make John doubt, but he wasn't sure if he would get the answer that he wanted.

That eliminated Mycroft.

Then John thought about asking one of Sherlock's friends. Yeah right, John couldn't really ask himself, now could he? He would get the desirable answer for sure, though.

Maybe if he couldn't find any other solution.

The next person, being the closest thing to a friend Sherlock had, would be Lestrade, but that would be weird. Of course Greg had accepted their relationship (even though he hadn't believed it was recent), but this was a step too far.

He didn't think Sherlock liked Lestrade that much. John appreciated him for letting Sherlock work on cases without insulting him. And it was fun to laugh together when Sherlock did something weird or admitted that he didn't know something that everybody else knows. But asking Lestrade _the_ question would just be too weird.

No Lestrade then.

The rest of the yard was eliminated before he could even think about it. It had to be a person who liked or _at least_ cared about Sherlock.

In the end it was Sherlock himself who fixed John's problem to whom he should go. It was an average afternoon when Sherlock suddenly yelled;

"Miss Hudson, could you bring some tea upstairs?"

"Not your housekeeper Sherlock!"

"Please?"

And so she brought the tea. John realised Sherlock only said 'please', 'thank you' and 'I'm sorry' to him and Mrs. Hudson. And the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. She always called them her boys, she liked Sherlock, she cared about him and Sherlock cared about her and even seemed to like her.

So Mrs. Hudson it was.

John had to wait two days before he could put his plan in action. It wasn't until Lestrade texted them on a Monday with a new case and Sherlock got all exited. Using his work at the surgery as an excuse, John stayed home. Sherlock pouted a little and said he 'couldn't work without his dear John near him,' but John kept saying no. Also, the case was too interesting to deny; so Sherlock went alone. The moment he heard the door close, he called the clinic to say he was ill.

Five minutes later, he knocked on the door of flat 221a. Mrs. Hudson smiled when she saw him. "John, what can I do for you?"

"Well there is this question I would like to ask you..."

"Well then, come in and I'll make you some tea."

Once he was seated John lost his courage.

It was a very personal question and he wasn't sure if Sherlock would like it if he asked somebody else before he asked him. Maybe he should ask it Mrs. Hudson after he asked Sherlock.

And so they talked a little bit; about the weather; about John's job at the surgery; but most of all about Sherlock. John would tell her the lovely things Sherlock had said or done to him, adorable things and romantic dates and Mrs. Hudson would tell him about Sherlock before John had met him.

And every story she would end with, "I'm so glad he has met you. You two are perfect for each other. He really loves you."

And John would always answer.

"And I love him to."

After five cups of tea and an entire packet of biscuits, Mrs. Hudson seemed to remember why John was there. "You had a question for me, John?" She asked.

John knew this was the moment to get out if he wanted to. But he didn't want to. He knew the question was unnecessary, but John was a man of tradition. Even if he had to change a couple of things to make it work, he would still follow the main idea of the tradition. So now as well.

"Miss Hudson, we are your boys' right?"

"Well of course, I love you both like I would my own sons."

John smiled, that was easier than he had expected. Maybe the next part would be easy as well. He had practised hard enough for it.

"That's why I would like to put this to you and no one else."

"Should I be flattered or worried John? I can never be sure with the pair of you. So what's your big question?"

John smiled and took a deep breath. No excess possible. Fine by him, he didn't want to go anywhere but here, really.

"Mrs. Hudson; I would like to ask you the hand of Sherlock Holmes in marriage."


End file.
